


Sweet Dreams

by UnrealRomance



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And all my LI's are ooc to some degree, And either way, Because a lot of their writing either makes them evil or is just bad writing, Because we know next to nothing about him, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hurt Feelings and Eventual Resolution, I just want fluffy happy times for the most part, Lotor is probably gonna end up OOC, Misunderstandings, lots of hurt/comfort, so I have to write them differently regardless
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-31 03:07:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13966047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnrealRomance/pseuds/UnrealRomance
Summary: Modern girl in Voltron. It had to be done.I don't want to ruin the plot by putting it all out in the summary, but this will be a romance filled with moments of intense angst-- or as intense as I can write it anyway, but with eventual resolution. Lots of magic and friendship and a sort of slow burn romance that...takes a long time to be decided on but not a long time to develop, if that makes sense.





	1. Chapter 1

Chaos.

Confusion.

The endless concussive blasts of nearby bombs and missiles going off have completely destroyed my hearing. All there is now is endless ringing and the whumpf of more bombs going off.

I think my ears are bleeding.

And through it all-

They just. Keep. Shooting.

Behind me, next to me, in front of me- every time a new gun materializes into another person's hands and fires at me, I have to change direction and find cover until they find someone more interesting to shoot at.

Oh I'm sure they were there all along…I just didn't see them, or hear them. Because I've gone basically deaf and even if I hadn't- there's so much going on in all directions, I doubt I'd be able to separate it all into distinct bits.

I'm not a soldier, or anything like that. Hell, I was barely even a functioning civilian-

And now I'm gonna die.

Deep in my bones, something cries out to me, to survive- to keep going. Keep running.

So I do.

Even though everything else in me says to curl up in a ball on the ground and just ignore everything going on around me- well. I guess I just really wanna live.

Which is surprising, considering the amount of times I've spent contemplating whether death would be preferable to one more day spent in the endless cycle of depression, panic attacks and the Blah that would come in-between them.

But I guess I just really want it to be my choice, how and when I die.

I don't think the universe cares that I don't want someone else to kill me, though. I'm about to get shot.

By a laser gun. On an alien planet.

I don't even know how the hell I got here. One minute I was watching TV and spacing out in bed after a particularly taxing conversation with my mother and-

And then I think I fell asleep because the next thing I knew, there were bombs going off and I was sitting up on a sand dune, watching carnage unfold before my eyes.

People died fast, I saw them…bloody, broken- in bits and pieces…

I saw someone's head explode when they got shot with a laser rifle. So I knew their lasers weren't set to 'stun' and that I should be very very afraid.

And that was all within the first hour.

No idea how long it's been, only that it has definitely been longer than an hour. I mean, the sun has changed position- but I mean. This is an alien planet. Maybe they have like five suns that move around a lot or something, how would I know!?

"Oof!" I know I make that sound, though I can't really hear it. I do feel my vocal chords vibrate.

I just got smacked into from the side, and I've gone down hard.

I feel something writhing against me and I'm so frightened to look down and see like, a headless corpse or something- but I look down anyway because what if it's some kind of giant bug trying to burrow into my skin-

But it's just a kid.

An alien kid, but still, a kid.

The child is small, but bulky. Not chubby. It's like…I know it's supposed to be a child because of the proportions- but they're so much larger in most dimensions than a human child- their bone structure, their musculature-

They blink up at me with yellow, pupil-less eyes and…and they look Galran.

But that's not possible. Galrans aren't real. And besides that- I mean.

They look like a Galran with feathers? Instead of fur? Or…those spikes that some Galrans have?

There are tears streaming down their face- and probably mine, as we just sit there, staring at each other.

And then I feel the vibrations of running feet- a lot of them- and the soldiers come into view, running from the same direction the kid came from.

All I know in that moment is that anyone chasing down a child is definitely not the good guy and if I want both myself and this kid to survive- I need to run in the opposite direction.

So I heave them up in my arms and I book.

I run around the edge of a nearby boulder- slipping and sliding on sand, ignoring the burn in my joints and lungs. I've been running for so long- I was already exhausted and now I have extra weight to carry, so it isn't going to be easy.

I feel the gunfire all around me, even though I don't hear it.

I also feel the shake of the earth as a ship drops bombs from orbit somewhere far enough away for it not to trip me up.

And then I'm surrounded by troops- from all directions. They're everywhere.

I stop in the middle of the- what used to be a street- and stare, gasping for air as they advance on us.

Even those from behind me have stopped shooting- but only to taunt, I think. I can't hear what they're all saying, but I can see the expressions on their faces- their…their Galran features twisted into expressions of vindictive glee or grim enjoyment.

Some of them are just blank- and I think those are the worst.

I fall to my knees with the child in my arms as they walk toward us and curl myself around the small child as far as I can.

Might not be able to protect them, but I will damn well try. I will wrap myself around this child I don't even know and I will die knowing that this is all I can do. Damn it.

I hate this- why is this happening to me?

Wait. Why aren't I dead yet? Are they still taunting me?

They had to have realized by now that I can't hear them or at least assumed I'm ignoring them, so they should've started raining blows down on me by now.

A warm weight falls on my shoulder and I flinch. It's a gentle weight. Not hurting me, just sort of sitting there.

Something touches my ear and I flinch more violently- it hurts.

I don't even know what to do when the touch moves to my throat and brushes away my hair. I think for a moment maybe they're going to slit my throat and I curl into a tighter ball, breathing raggedly and- I think I'm sobbing.

I can feel my vocal chords vibrating again but I couldn't tell you what I'm saying.

And that's when I feel something touch my neck and…and…it feels like something very cool just- just shot into my veins. But there was no needle- was there?

Everything starts to go numb and the world is beginning to fade around the edges when I lift my head to see what the hell is going on.

I'm hallucinating- I'm hallucinating and I'm going to die but this feeling-

I'm being drugged and I'm probably going to wish I was dead before I ever get to actually die.

His mouth is moving and saying things, but they're not directed at me, he's looking around and shouting at people- I can feel the vibration but not make out what the words are.

Even trying to focus on his lips, he's not enunciating enough for me to catch anything. He is angry though, that's apparent.

How nice of my brain to conjure up the image of a righteously furious Lotor in my last moments of cognizance.

I dunno why it wouldn't have gone for a smiling Keith and Lance or A warm Allura or even a steadfast Shiro or maybe laughing Pidge and Hunk- but hey. Beggars can't be choosers, I guess.

He's staring at me and I don't know for how long. Wide-eyed and lips parted like I've just done something shocking.

And then the whole world is spinning around me and I'm falling into darkness.

The last thing I'm aware of is that grip on my shoulder tightening.


	2. Chapter 2

Ugh, I feel like shit.

My whole body is achy and kind of tight- but hey, I’m alive.

I think. I mean- pain means alive, right?

Can’t open my eyes or move at all, but at least I’m aware of my body. Even thought I feel like I got hit by a truck or something.

And I can hear! It’s incredibly grating- but I can hear a lot.

The people in the next room, talking to each other, the rustle of the sheets as they get changed by whoever tends to that. It’s mostly a jumble of sound- I only know voices from each other because they talk at separate times. Please god nobody start shouting or trying to talk over each other…

I’m assuming I’m in some kind of hospital or something because it smells like one. And I’m pretty sure I’m on the good stuff. Pain killers, man’s best friend.

Drifting in and out of consciousness- the only thing I know is… I still don’t know what happened to the kid.

And I need to know.

I pick out the sound of a heart monitor when it starts beeping a little faster than it was before- it was just background noise till now, I guess.

“Oh my!” an exclamation that I can understand- it’s close by, too. “Doctor!”

It moves away from me.

Fighting to crack open my eyes, the heart monitor jumps and trills as my breathing becomes ragged.

It hurts!

Ugh god.

Collapsing back into bed- I hadn’t realized my upper body had raised like a whole inch off of it.

Lying there, gasping for air and trying to get my body to calm down-

There’s someone else in the room.

The other person- the nurse? They left but I still feel…someone.

I’ve always been able to feel people. It’s nothing supernatural, it’s just like spatial awareness but for body heat and…I can hear them breathing.

My body is throbbing and I know it’s a bad idea, but I strain to open my eyes, at the very least. I need to know who’s there.

It’s so hard and my eyes are so warm and…they feel so disjointed like they’re outside of my sockets. I know they aren’t, because I can move them under my lids- but god they must be like…swollen or something.

When I’m finally able to open them, it takes a few seconds of blinking and adjusting to the light to actually-

Oh. Oh, why is he there again?

Standing next to the window, blocking the sunlight, looking down at me with a pleasantly surprised expression.

His lips curl into something like a smirking grin- pointed teeth glinting in what little light is eking around his shoulders. “Well now. And here I thought you were so fragile.”

‘Lotor,’ I can’t speak or I’d have said his name aloud. Which…I mean, I’m glad. That I can’t speak. Because I’m afraid of how it’d come out.

My heart monitor blips again, but it’s lost among the beeping of the other machines as they kick on to try and fix…whatever I’d just done to hurt myself worse…I think. I’m no expert on hospital machinery and I know nothing about the alien stuff to begin with.

Is this my life now? Being trapped in some kind of weird dimensional vortex where Voltron and Prince Lotor are real?

Or at least present, if not…corporeal. Is he corporeal? I’m not gonna reach out to touch him just to find out. I mean, in the first place- he’d think I was weird and in the second I CAN’T MOVE MY LIMBS.

“You seem distressed,” he says. Soft and mellifluous, god that accent. “Allow me to assure you the child you rescued from the invasion is alive and well.”

Everything in me goes boneless as soup and the relief I feel deep down into my soul it's…like a religious experience. I sigh a little at the way my body finally stops struggling- I didn’t even realize I was still doing that.

“Yes, I thought that might be the issue,” he says.

He’s smiling much more mutedly now. It’s that smile he has in the show, no teeth- half-lidded eyes…

“Ah I see we’re awake!” a man walks into the room from the other side and it hurts to turn my head but I have to see-

It’s a Galran doctor, of course- and my heartbeat skips because, well. The last Galrans I saw that looked like him, were about to kill me. But I just have to remind myself that it’s over, that I’m safe, that he’s probably just a doctor- and my heartbeat goes back to normal.

Everyone in the room is staring at me and I flick my eyes over to Lotor who’s walked closer to my bedside.

His eyes are intent and his mouth is only slightly curved. “That was interesting.”

“Indeed, I’ve seen few civilians or soldiers who could self-soothe like that.” The doctor remarks.

I feel a warmth creeping up and over my limbs- my face most of all.

“Ah,” the doctor blinks and comes over to me to feel my face. “A fever?”

I can’t help it, I snort. It hurts like all hell, but god, Galran doctors not knowing what blushing is-

It makes me cough and I’m grasped on both sides and pulled up into a sitting position while another hand rubs my back. I don’t know whose it is and I don’t care, just so long as the coughing stops.

God, it hurts so much-

Is that blood on my legs? Where did that- oh. It’s dripping out of my mouth.

“Looks like she’s due for another injection,” the doctor says.

My whole body goes rigid at that. I hate needles.

“Stay calm, it’ll only take a moment,” the doctor assures me as he pulls a strange-looking tube out of his pocket. “Just one, two, three-”

He presses it to my neck- the junction between neck and shoulder to be precise- and I can’t even stop him if I wanted to because I’m weak as a kitten and-

Ohhhh. I think that noise came out of my mouth, but I’m not sure and don’t really care.

“Better?” Lotor looks so- Cheshire, when I glance at him. Amused and self-satisfied for some reason I can’t comprehend.

And then…oh. Ugh…the dark is swirling again.

Well, at least the pain is gone.


	3. Chapter 3

The next time I wake up, Lotor isn’t there- thank god.

If my heart monitor blip’d again, I wouldn’t have anything to cover it up this time- as I wake from a dead sleep and none of the other machines are…doing anything.

Maybe they only switch on when I’m taxing myself.

The room is dark and cool and my body feels a lot better rested than it had before. I twitch my fingers and toes, to test out my movement.

They’re sore and throb a little, so I stop moving and start focusing on my breathing.

It’s days of this- waking up and lulling myself back to sleep, sometimes when people are around talking, sometimes in the dead of night…

Sometimes the doctor or nurse is there, but I never see Lotor. Which is a relief and also a disappointment.

I mean, why was he there when I woke up the first time? But still, he’s nice to look at and listen to and it’d help to have something to focus on so I don’t feel like shit for sleeping so much.

Eventually I wake up and I’m able to move my fingers and toes without much pain. Still sore, but no throbbing or aching.

So I push myself into a sitting position as slowly as I can and sigh in relief when it only causes a small pang of discomfort.

It’s the middle of the night again, and…I have to pee.

I don’t know how I’ve been going- as I have no catheter. Maybe they just carried me to the bathroom or something? God, that’s embarrassing either way.

It takes forever to get up out of bed, hobble to the doorway that I know doesn’t lead to the hall and…figure out how to use the toilet.

It’s fairly straightforward, but also weirdly technical. There’s like four buttons on the damn thing. One for flushing, one for that…weird, stream of water thing and the last two are for cleaning, I think. One releases chemicals and the other has this laser light show.

They use lasers to clean things, that's…great.

Because just seeing the beams of light doesn’t make my heart palpitate. Nope.

Everything is so sleek and…pretty. I feel bad for being afraid of it. I would normally marvel at all of this if all the traumatic shit hadn’t happened first.

Another forever to get back in bed and…I fall dead asleep once more. But this time, the time stretches- it’s no longer like a few minutes before sunrise. Now it's…I don’t know, it’s longer. Like it was back home when I’d sleep. Normal.

In the morning, I get a surprise when I wake up. After drifting aimlessly in the darkness for so long- suddenly there’s color and light.

The Doctor and Nurse are putting flowers next to my bed and on all the tables.

“What’s go-” I cough and clear my throat. “-going on?”

The Doctor chuckles and walks over to my bedside. “Thought you could use them. You’re finally fully awake- you got out of bed and back into it last night, the sensors say.”

I’m almost afraid I wasn’t supposed to and I’m about to get into trouble.

“We removed all assistance and equipment from your person to see if you could be coaxed up,” he says and grins with sharp teeth. “Looks like you’re functioning just fine without any of the machines.”

“Why did I need the machines to begin with?” I ask. “I was just…tired. From running so much.”

The nurse glances at me as they go by- their eyes somber and sorry. For…what?

“You’d been hit multiple times, by shrapnel,” the Doctor informs me. “Lacerations, bruising that went deep…and yet you were still running when you were captured.” He huffs, “you had lost all hearing in both ears, you needed several surgeries to restore integrity to…well. It’s all very technical, if you’d like me to explain in depth, you need only ask but people don’t normally want to hear every detail.”

I feel sick just from that small snippet. “Why was Lotor there?” Just kind of pops out of me. “Why was he here, when I woke up the first time?”

“Eh…” some kind of irritation rolls over the Doctor’s face. “The prince gets overly involved in planet-side occupations. I suppose you’re not dead because he did so, but really…”

“I don't…understand,” I reply.

“He’s paying for your surgeries and the tech we had to install in your ears to give you back your hearing,” he tells me. To my great shock. “Sent the child off-world to some orphan sanctuary or something- too involved in the lives of people he doesn’t know, if you ask me. Even defending you from that patrol in the first place was meddlesome.”

Wow, okay…all that horrible aside, this is…I know Lotor…a little. He’s an opportunist and kind of manipulative and…what could he want from me?

What could I possibly give him that would justify all this time, effort and money spent on me?

I clear my throat and rub my chest with one of my hands, “um…what happens now, then?”

“I call your benefactor and he decides that,” he shrugs. “Once you’re stable and able to leave, it isn’t up to me anymore.”

“Would I be able to…speak with him?” I ask. “Or do I have to-”

“He asked to be notified when you woke, so I’d imagine he’s on his way already,” he replies.

I sigh, “okay.”

“You know it’s the strangest thing,” he goes on to say. “You really should’ve been nearer death than you were. But it was almost as though your body had begun to heal at an incredibly rapid rate, even without the injections.” He hums. “It’s why we used them sparingly. Your body was quick to self-repair.”

I blink. “Well…yeah. All people’s bodies do that.”

“Not to such a degree, not so fast,” he says. “Whatever species you are…hrm…well. Let’s just say your people will likely be an asset to the Galra when we find them.”

Such an ominous declaration.

The Nurse walks back into the room with a bundle of clothing in her arms. “He’s here. I have clothing for you.”


	4. Chapter 4

I get wheeled out in a wheelchair- though it has no wheels. It's more like a hover chair. Or something. Expensive-looking and I wonder if they found the most expensive one they could find so they could charge extra for my using it.

And…there he is, just outside the doors when we finally get to the entrance.

Waiting with his hands behind his back.

…is that Acxa? Beside him?

_Shit_.

"Ah, you are finally well enough to leave. You must be happy to finally be getting out of that bed," he says.

He's being weird, right? This is weird. I mean, I'm so painfully, socially awkward that this could be completely normal and I'd still feel weird that someone was talking to me, but-

"She's still a bit…off," the nurse says into the pause.

Shit, how long did I go without responding? God, I can feel my whole body turning red again.

"Ah she's doing it again," the nurse says. "Doctor says it isn't a fever, just some kind of...response."

"Oh come on, doesn't  _he_  do that?" I can't help but ask loudly and point at Lotor. "Or hell, her?" I point at Acxa and then drop my hand to my lap. Pointing is rude, right? "They both have skin like mine, it doesn't periodically get darker when they're feeling embarrassed or angry? Blood rushing under the skin,  _any_  of this ringin' a bell?"

There's a profound silence at that and- Acxa coughs, "so…we'll be going now. You should stand up."

I'm a little afraid to do that, and I think it shows on my face.

That warm weight is back and I blink- because I zoned out for a second there and now Lotor is  _right beside me_  and now I'm remembering the hand on my shoulder-

I'm turning red again. Damn it.

I lurch out of the chair-thing and take a few steps, "fine- I'm fine. Just…slow."

Jesus, that was obvious.

Lotor's expression seems a bit forced now, and I have no idea how I can tell other than that weird empathy thing.

I can  _always_  tell when someone is hiding how they feel. I can never tell what they're  _actually_  feeling, but-

"Shall we be going then?" he asks while gesturing forward. Carefully keeping his distance from me.

_Shit._

"Wha…Where are we going?" I ask.

He smiles, and I'm still getting that frisson of not-actually-happy in the back of my mind. "I had assumed you'd like a ride home."

That makes me just…stare at him. Because…well. I don't  _have_  a home here.

What the fuck do I say?

"I…I don't…" scrambling for an answer, I look at Acxa.

She actually seems to be inferring something from my silence, and looks awkward.

Wait! That's it!

"There was a whole war going on- bombs dropping…" I gesture, "I…don't have…"

Lotor nods, "yes, the area you were in was heavily damaged and I had assumed your home was either damaged…or demolished." His expression is sad and kind, but I keep getting that frisson. "So I went to the liberty of finding you a place in one of the refugee shelters."

"Why?" just bursts out of me. "Why do you  _care_?" I flinch at my own tone.

I sound so…hysterical.

Everyone else flinched a little, too.

"I mean," I clear my throat and push my hair over my shoulder. "I'm just some strange alien you know nothing about. So…what's your motivation for helping me so much?"

"I think that's a strange way of saying 'thank you'," Acxa observes.

"Thanking him would imply I owe him something," I reply. "And I'm not making that commitment until I know what the  _price_  will be."

There's a chuckle, and then a cough. Like he was trying to cover it up. And Lotor says… "I want nothing  _from_ you. I am simply…making up for what you experienced."

I frown.

"Of course, I  _can't_ ," he says. Smiling a little sadly- and it… _seems_  genuine? My empathy sense isn't going off, at least. "But I can, at the very least, pay for your surgeries and get you settled into a new home. It's always been our way to take prisoners-"

He cuts himself off and grits his teeth for like, half a second. Then he's smiling again and I can sense the smile is hiding something again. I'm thinking it's anger. "But torture and sadism toward civilians is not the way."

Oh, right. He's like the Galra form of a Liberal. Still kind of fight-y but also…logical and kind of…pseudo-compassionate.

Or well. I assumed it was Pseudo. How can you not? A man that perfect has to have something wrong with him.

"Did you do this for everyone else?" I ask.

His expression slowly morphs into a sad one. Though it's subtle. "You and that child…were the only ones I could…"

"Everyone else is dead?" I ask, numbly. I didn't know them, but that's…

"Not everyone," he replies. "But…anyone injured at the time I entered battle either succumbed to their injuries or…chose their path to the afterlife for themselves." He looks distinctly uncomfortable.

They killed themselves so they wouldn't be ruled by the Galra. Liberty or death.

I wish they didn't have to feel like those were their only options, but I get why they did it. Still…I don't believe every single one of them either died or killed themselves.

Can't let on, though. I'll look into it, later.

"Oh. That makes sense," I sigh. "Still…only two people made it out of that warzone…that…doesn't seem right." Still can't help expressing just a little skepticism- I mean, if he's actually that manipulative and good at it, he'd be expecting  _some_.

"My troops became…" his eyes close for just…like, a second. "Overenthusiastic at the challenge. It seems this world has better defenses than most and…Galra love to fight." He smiles in a way that says he knows it's nothing to be smiling about, but what else can you do?

His face is extremely expressive.

"The fact that they did so on your watch must be vexing," I say.

"This is  _not_  Prince Lotor's-" Acxa almost seems like she's about to fight me.

He puts a hand on her shoulder, "indeed it is."

"So how did you rein them in?" I ask. Trying to ignore Acxa because she kind of terrifies me. Zethrid is strong, Ezor is nimble and Narti is powerful and can take over your mind…but Acxa is disciplined.

I'm watching him, with a suspicious expression, I'm sure. I can't really tell, since 'suspicious' is usually my default.

His smile is a bit more vicious now, but only really in his eyes. "I told them that the next soldier to kill or harass a civilian would get equal treatment from myself and my generals."

Which…yeah okay, can't really find fault with that.

Give it time though, I'll come up with something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS!
> 
> If any of you guys would be interested in supporting my project to write an interactive novel, please visit my patreon!
> 
> https://www.patreon.com/UnrealRomance
> 
> It's monster romance.


	5. Chapter 5

Yeah, so it turns out…

That place Lotor took me and got me settled into? Is a  _military_  refugee center.

And I didn't know that until horns started blaring the morning after I'd moved in and suddenly I was being shoved through basic training.

I knew it was kind of useless to point out that I'd never signed up for anything, because these were Galra. If you weren't willing to fight, they probably considered you weak and useless.

And then I'd be thrown out on my ass without a single care and nowhere to go.

It's horrible. I hate it.

It's also kind of the best.

Exhausting, grueling, painful and emotionally taxing- but I've never been pushed like this before and I'm sort of…enjoying the novelty?

Also the happy chemicals released by my brain from the exercise that I can never get myself to do at home because executive dysfunction.

Being  _told_  to do them, makes it easier.

I'm actually a lot happier than normal. I don't know if this was always something I could've done, or if it's just a freak thing, but…I wouldn't stop now even if they offered.

I'm sure this wouldn't work for everyone, but for now, for me, it's enough.

"Move your feet, princess!" one of the officers barks at me.

That's my nickname here, apparently.

Everyone thinks Lotor is giving me special treatment, and since he's a prince…

Well, I can't really dispute it without looking even guiltier. But since I didn't dispute it at  _all_ , now they think it's true and that I'm not arguing because I  _can't_.

Either way I would've lost so I decided not to play and look at that, I still lost.

It's been about a week since I got here and I'm still in agony every night and morning, but…it's not as bad as it first was. Better by degrees, I guess I'd say.

"Ugh," Ishto grumbles at his food. "What  _is_  this stuff, anyway?"

I still don't know how I'm able to understand everyone, regardless of species or language- but I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth. I don't want it to go away.

"It's probably all the throwaway parts of an animal," I reply disinterestedly. "It's likely not bad for you, but not exactly  _good_  for you, either."

He makes a face and shoves some of the weird looking meat in his mouth. Chews, then swallows. "Well it's not disgusting, but it's not good."

"As is per usual for cafeteria food, really," Vhiza replies from across the table. "If only they'd let me in the kitchen, I could do so much with this little…"

Vhiza was a chef, before. Ishto was still in college…er…university…sort of. He was still in school, but adult school. I can never remember how it worked, it was so complicated. And I don't want to seem inattentive or anything by asking him to explain it again.

"Five more minutes!" One of the examiners warns us in a loud shout. "Then it's back to training!"

While I do love all the activity and everything… "Do they know they'd get better results training us if they dialed back the hours we have to train and gave us more breaks?" I ask. "I guess it wouldn't matter to them."

"Yay, we get to learn to fight and go to new planets where we'll do what the Galra did to us," Ishto says with heavy sarcasm. "Oh wait, no, we're not the conquerors, we're just the  _cannon fodder_."

"How do they keep track of us between jumps from place to place?" I ask, cautiously. "Like…isn't it possible to just, take an escape pod somewhere, buy a ticket somewhere else and just…disappear?"

"Galra don't suffer deserters lightly," Vhiza replies. "You'd be put on a most wanted list, your face plastered everywhere- then there'd be bounty hunters sent out to track you down…and they're really good."

"Do you get to choose your posting or is it determined by how much the people in charge hate you?" I ask next.

Ishto snorts, "what are you worried about? One call to prince fancy hair and you're on the safest rock in the galaxy with a desk job."

I blink, "do…" no, that's not possible. "Do exiled princes hold as much power as non-exiled princes, then?"

"He's got enough power that he could pull strings for a nobody," he shrugs.

Oh thank god. For a second I thought this was before Lotor got exiled, but that was like, centuries before Voltron, and that was freaking me out.

"He already did a lot for me, I don't think I'm in a position to ask for favors," I deadpan. "Why does everyone think he's attached to me? It's basically just guilt, or whatever equivalent you can apply to a commander who lost control of the troops."

"That's the thing, though," Ishto says. "He wasn't even supposed to  _be_  here. He showed up in the middle of the battle and then stopped a group of Galran soldiers from killing some civilians. I mean, there was you and that kid that we heard about," he's gesturing with his spork, though nothing is on it, thank god.

Don't want to get into a fight because Ishto got overly enthusiastic.

"But there were others," he says. "There were injured that were taken out on stretchers- or people who blew themselves up trying to take the Galra with him that he tried to talk down. It's bizarre. He's been in exile for how long? And now he just pops out of nowhere and…"

"Times up, Runts!"

"Damn," I shove some food in my mouth and chew, Ishto and Vhiza doing the same as we all rise from our seats.

Another day in training, another day I spend confused and another day without word one from Lotor.

If he actually felt guilty at all, or whatever it was that prompted him to save me, he should've checked up on me by now.

Maybe he's busy, who knows, it just makes me even more suspicious. He should at least be putting up more of a charade.

And then someone taps me on the shoulder.

A Galran woman smiles at me when I turn to look. "Excuse me, ma'am, but you're requested on the vidcon."


	6. Chapter 6

So, I wasn't supposed to be trained.

Apparently you have to sign up for that and the guy who walked into my room to drag me out the first morning after I'd been checked in, was under the mistaken assumption that everyone on my floor had done so.

Most of the soldiers seemed unconcerned with the mix up, even when it was obvious over the Vidcon that Lotor was kind of quietly furious about it.

He tried to get them to stop training me, but I didn't want to stop. So I told him that.

And now things are  _so_  much worse.

"Come on, princess!" one of my trainers is being especially hard on me now that everyone knows Lotor tried to get me out of training.

Apparently the fact that I turned that down, means nothing. Or maybe they don't know and think it just failed, who knows.

Any which way you slice it, any progress I'd made before is kind of being fucked up by the way they're driving me. I'm cranky, tired and constantly in pain.

I didn't even get to ask Lotor any questions or probe for information because as soon as he saw me in fatigues on the Vidcon, all that mess started happening and…I didn't get the chance.

"I know you can do better than that!" the trainer snaps when I fall in the mud.

I'm breathing a little shakily, my vision is going dark around the edges and my body refuses to cooperate with me, but hell…

Slowly, I maneuver myself up onto my arms and knees, gasping for breath and ignoring the man shouting at me because I assumed trainers were all bark. That they couldn't use physical 'motivation'.

I was wrong.

I get kicked in the side, flip a few times in the mud and lie flat on my back as my vision goes dark because he knocked what little wind I had, out of me.

And the next time I open my eyes, I'm in the infirmary.

It's like I blinked and suddenly I was here. Weird.

I still ache, but it's not as bad as it was. I can move around, but it hurts.

Slowly sitting up, I cough at the pressure it puts on my abdomen and jolt when a hand lands on my back.

He pulls away, looking kind of put off, but smiles.

That fake smile, same as before. "You're awake, I'm glad."

"Lotor?" I strangle on the name a little and end up coughing again.

"You should perhaps avoid speaking as much as possible," he tells me. "You seem to have damaged much of your body in many different ways…some which were difficult to correct before your body began healing itself."

I swallow roughly and breathe as slowly as I can manage to keep from irritating my airways, giving him a quizzical look.

"I couldn't tell you how you were damaged, as it…well, it is not my area to begin with and your anatomy is rather unlike anyone else in the empire- similar to Puigians but not exactly the same…similar to many species, but not close enough for-"

I wave my hand in an impatient way and gesture around us, raising an eyebrow.

"You're in the hospital near the military refugee center. I had you removed from that place, though I can find you another teacher that will be less likely to almost accidentally kill you if you are still determined to train." He sounds so imperious it hurts my ears.

I give him a deadpan look.

"What?" he asks, folding his arms. "You must realize this endeavor is quite fruitless. Your species…they heal quickly, apparently- but that isn't enough. And in fact can even be detrimental. You heal so quickly that infection could possibly not be cleansed from your wounds before they are closed."

That makes no sense. I quirk a brow at him and spread my hands in a universal 'what?' gesture.

He sighs, "whoever your people are, they are weaker than the Galra, and in fact- weaker than any other species who engages in combat in the Galran army refugee divisions."

I honestly can't believe what I'm hearing. "Can't believe  _you're_ -" I break off to cough. "-say-" cough again, and breathe… "saying that." I manage to get that part out before dissolving into coughs again, at least.

"Me?" he asks.

And the expression on his face is so dark it scares me. He looks like he's  _trying_  to seem neutral- but my empathy is going off and there's this…aura of darkness around him. He's angry.

I gesture and shrug, pantomiming that I can't answer him with a fucked up throat.

His eyes close for a moment, he breathes and then they open and he's smiling fakely at me again. "No need for that, regardless, I can gather your meaning. And in answer to your supposition…Alteans are not quite as weak as most would assume."

And that leaves me floundering for a second before I realize what he thinks I was saying.

"That's not-" I cough and clutch at my chest, holding them in and forcing the words out. "- _what I_ _ **meant.**_ "

I can't hold it anymore and it  _hurts_  a  _lot_  to cough. But I'll be damned if he thinks I'm calling him  _weak_  for being  _biracial_. God's sake. I'm sure he's gotten enough of that over his lifetime, he doesn't need a complete stranger who has only benefited from his 'generosity' talking to him like that, too. Misunderstanding or not.

Generosity. I should…I should stop putting things in quotes of any kind when I think about what he does.

I mean, in the series, everything he does is completely logical from a certain standpoint. And that standpoint is…he's had to grow up as half-Altean in a Galran-supremacist Empire.

He's probably learned to manipulate situations and people out of sheer survival instinct. I shouldn't…be so shitty to him all the time just because I'm afraid I can't trust him. All that will do is alienate my only ally in this whole universe.

I mean, even Ishto and Vhiza kind of deserted me when the trainers started focusing on me, but I don't blame them…I mean, they were already being pushed hard enough and I'd practically  _asked_  for the focus from their perspective, I'm sure.

And I'm pretty sure Vhiza was the one leaving extra bread in my bed for me to eat before I went to sleep. More training meant I needed more calories, after all. I have no idea how they got it, though…

It's the best they could do for me and Ishto…I think Ishto resents that I could've stopped and still be taken care of and didn't take the option. Must've seemed like I spurned a dream come true to him.

"Calm down, calm down," I didn't even realize he was touching me again.

His hand is rubbing up and down my back in that generic comforting motion that people do for people who cough and it almost makes me laugh cause…it's just such a weird thing for him to do.

I don't know why, it just seems that way. I'd never imagine him doing anything like that.

"I will get the doctor- he wanted to wait for you to wake before giving you another injection."

I catch his arm as he moves away from me and open my mouth, before realizing I shouldn't talk and shutting it, sighing heavily through my nose.

"Yes, what is it?" He sits on the edge of my bed and he looks so fucking attentive all of a sudden that it just strikes me.

Like all those times he looked adorable with Voltron in the series and it seemed just a counterpoint to how he was before.

I bite my lip and look down and see my hands in my lap. Oh!

I sign 'thank you' with my hands- hoping he'll realize I'm using sign language more than hoping he'll understand, I mean…how could he? But if they have a kind of sign language here, I could learn it…

His eyes are incredibly wide. Shit, did I say something offensive?

"You…that was…" he does the closing his eyes and breathing thing again- he does that a  _lot_. Gathering himself or something? "I understand that gesture to mean something I do not think you meant to imply, so I will assume you are attempting to communicate but our…cultures are so far separated that I can't infer what you mean. I'm sorry."

He actually seems so  _crushed_  that he can't understand me. And I remember he's kind of a nerd who prides himself on this kind of thing. It's probably more about that than about understanding me.

So I shrug and pick up one of his hands. I squeeze it gently between mine and then release him, sighing. That probably didn't mean what I wanted it to mean, either.

From the kind of gobsmacked look on his face, yeah probably not.

I bury my face in my hands and gesture for him to leave, just go. I am too frustrated for this shit right now.

"I'll…get the doctor, then, shall I?" he says, a little awkwardly.


	7. Chapter 7

I am not… _loving_ , this compromise.

"That's right, check the safety and the settings, don't want to shoot anything more powerfully than you need to- or end up with a stun when you intend to kill someone."

My new instructor is  _lovely_ , really she is. But eh…she's also kind of ridiculously accommodating towards me. And I'm pretty sure it's because she's a…

Well I don't wanna call her a fangirl because that's not right…but she definitely has a thing for Lotor.

And that's not at all helpful for pushing my limits- I've more than recovered from the last time I got hurt, I could stand to have the training stepped up a little. But I'm afraid to say anything in fear that she'll go extra hard on me and then be able to say that I'd asked for it.

Women sometimes get nasty when you spend time with men they're interested in, whether you're also interested or not. Not all of them, not all the time…but I'm wary of it. I haven't had many girl friends that didn't get kind of…off, when someone liked their crush.

And I mean, it's probably a pretty safe assumption that most women who meet Lotor probably kind of fall all over themselves for him.

He's cultured, he's gorgeous, he has a really sexy voice…

"Oof!" the gun slams into my torso and I'm flat on my back, coughing and rubbing at the spot over my trainee armor.

"Ah the kickback'll get ya if you're not careful and you've made the lasers too strong," she says.

She's one of the mixed blood Galra, I think. She looks almost completely Galran except for a pair of horns on her head. Puigian? Maybe? No…the horns are longer than Puigian horns…

"Daydreaming again?" she asks in an unimpressed tone.

I sigh, "I don't know why I couldn't just keep doing the basic training stuff like before…"

"You trained intensively, longer and harder than your peers for a period of time that was…unacceptable," she says. "Your healing ability apparently allowed you to go at it harder and longer, but it did damage to your insides. They were able to fix it, but…" she shrugs. "Who knows if they'll be able to, again?"

"So only push me as hard as a regular recruit, or a little less or whatever, but I should still be doing it." I just want to keep up the level of energy I've been getting from it, damn it.

"You are persistent," she observes and smiles with one edge of her mouth. "And Lotor only said not to go harder on you than anyone else, not to go softer. Still, I guess I assumed…" Her eyes drift off to the side.

"Lotor doesn't speak for me and I want to keep training," I say. A little miffed that everyone is consulting a man about me. "I am my own person, whether he's helping me out or not and I make my decisions myself."

Her lips are parted and her brows are lifted. "That touched a nerve, huh?"

I inhale deeply and sit up. "Can we get back to the lesson?"

"Thought you wanted training?" she asks and crosses her arms, leaning over. "If you want it, I  _will_  provide it, but I'd better not hear any whining."

"I didn't whine up till the point I was knocked unconscious from being nearly overworked to death, I think I'm good," I deadpan.

So training starts again.

And I don't feel the burn. So I tell her so.

She ups the training to the usual level- but I still don't feel the burn.

I get examined by one of the doctors in the infirmary, and then I'm pushed just a little bit harder, and harder- with the doctor observing nearby- until eventually I'm going twice as hard as a normal recruit and  _almost_  at the level that I was doing before when I got knocked out.

And the courtyard is filled with off-duty doctors and nurses, talking to each other as I run a cooldown lap, even though I don't feel all that winded.

What the fuck is happening to me?

After an entire afternoon being put through every scientific test the doctors could think of- they didn't know either.

"I'm not usually like this," I tell the woman taking my blood- while trying to ignore the needle.

I hate needles.

"Lotor keeps going on about my healing but where I'm from, we don't heal that fast- it shouldn't be miraculous or anything. We take days to fully heal a small-ish cut, if you count growing new skin over the scab…"

"If this is abnormal for you, then it is even more imperative we discover what is happening," she responds. "Perhaps we should begin testing your quintessence levels."

I blink, "what quintessence levels?"

She gives me a look. "Quintessence does not only reside in planets, it is within all things alive."

"So when the planets all go dark, Zarkon will start the mass murder," I say, off-hand. "Good to know for the future, I guess."

The doctor is staring at me with wide eyes like she can't believe I just said that. I usually get that reaction when I don't care to censor myself.

"What? He needs Quintessence to like, live, right?" I reply. "And the planets won't hold out the way he's going at them, so-"

"You are absolutely correct," and there's Lotor, off to the side of the room.

When the fuck did he get here?

"What's going on?" I ask him. "Weren't you doing something somewhere?"

"This is  _much_  more interesting," he replies. Watching me with thinly veiled curiosity. Sly curiosity, but still.

I roll my eyes, preparing for a new test when the needle is extracted. A likely unpleasant one.


	8. Chapter 8

"You don't know how this came to pass?" he seems really concerned for me.

But I still can't get it out of my head that he's the one who's done this to me, somehow. Or that…that he's going to do something to me now that he knows about it.

And right after I'd decided to stop being so jumpy about things he was doing for me, too…

"Where I'm from, Quintessence is a philosophical thing," I reply. "It's not supposed to be…a quantifiable, examine-able, thing."

"Your people not knowing of its existence does not mean-"

I cut him off, "the rest of the humans on my home world aren't like this." I look at my arm, where the doctor had made an incision and watched it close within minutes. "I wasn't even like this before…"

"Before?" he prompts.

"Before I started dodging bombs," I reply. "Before that…I was normal. I had no…special abilities at all."

I am  _not_  telling him I'm from another universe. He knows all about those and I know nothing…I'd be at a disadvantage.

"Well, in any case…" he pushes off the nearby wall and walks over to where I'm sitting on the edge of the examination table. "You cannot stay  _here_  any longer."

I blink and quirk an eyebrow, "…because?"

"The doctors here know of you, and they will report on your presence to their commanders," he replies. "That means that eventually-"

"Haggar," just kind of bursts out in a breathless little exclamation.

I'd completely forgotten about her. Haggar, Honerva…

"Haggar," he agrees with an even tone. "You will not only be an experiment, but a puppet. Perhaps even a pet."

And that does not at all appeal to me. I mean, like, who  _would_  it appeal to?

I could be one of those poor people who gets turned into some kind of giant creature that tries to destroy Voltron.

Oh, shit…where even am I in the storyline?

"I thought…she wasn't all that active recently," I mean, if it's early on, that'll make sense. Right? Because she's just hidden away, doing experiments.

"That witch is  _always_  active…but you are right…she  _has_  mostly kept to herself of late," he replies. "Once she discovers you, however…that may end."

"She outranks you, doesn't she?" I ask. "How are you going to keep-"

"I have managed to keep you a secret until now…and as it is, I can continue to do so," he cuts me off. "But not while you stay  _here_. You need to be mobile, never staying in one place for too long, with no data saved on you. Except for whatever I would need to know in order to treat your injuries." He shrugs, "I have been a proficient medic for a few centuries now…"

I think my eyes are bugging out, "you're a  _medic_?"

His own narrow, "yes."

"Will you teach me?" just bursts out before I can stop it. "I always wanted to learn to be a combat medic!" I never wanted to contribute to the war machine, but I liked thinking I would be able to handle myself and help people.

He looks a little surprised, "I…can teach you anything you like."

"So you'd continue my training yourself?" I ask, a little awed.

"Yes?" He seems more confused, but his eyes are back to narrowing again.

"Alright," I agree.

He blinks, and his eyes and expression are just- it's that unexpected cuteness again. "Alright?"

"You're like one of the best warriors in Galra space, so I can't complain about that," I cross my arms. "And I'd get to learn medic skills which is something I've always wanted. I don't have to be a science experiment…oh, but I have a condition, though…"

"And what would that be?" he asks, settling easily into that false smile, though now I feel like it's only hiding confusion at this point.

"If you're teaching me, I don't want it to be like it was before, or here…" I say. "I wanna be pushed just the right amount for me to progress, but not too much or too little…and I want to be able to ask questions without someone barking at me to shut up and follow orders."

"A reasonable request, I think," he replies. Seeming a lot less confused now, but still with an air of 'huh?' about him. "Is that all?"

"No, one more thing," I take a moment and think how to present this. "I understand that a lot of the time, you've had to finagle and manipulate people…because I mean, how could you not?"

He tilts his head at me.

"But not me," I say. "You want something, you tell me. If I figure out that you've been manipulating me, I might just do the opposite to prove I can…or I might do nothing. I have this…response, to people manipulating me that I can't get rid of… And wouldn't want to, to be honest."

"So, your only conditions are that I treat you with respect," he says. Very deadpan.

"With the way everyone's been treating me since I got here, can you blame me for believing it was off the table to begin with?" I ask.

His eyes glance away and he sighs, "fine. I will acknowledge you have been…handled incorrectly, in the recent past. But not all of us of Galran blood are so-"

"It isn't your blood, it's your culture," I reply. "Blood carries nothing but the genes for adapting to your environment. Your culture is centered on domination and bloodlust,  _that's_  the problem. Not your blood."

He's staring at me a little, and I don't get why. But then he tilts his head again and his eyes lid themselves, almost like he's realizing something that he hadn't gotten before.

"I suppose I can accept that answer," he says.

He's not telling me what it is. That's gonna drive me up a wall.

"So we have a deal?" I ask.

He nods, "we have a deal."


	9. Lotor POV

I don't understand her.

Moreover, I feel she doesn't at all, understand  _me_. But she  _thinks_  she does.

And it isn't for the usual reasons. It isn't because I'm Galran, or Altean, or because I'm heir to Zarkon's legacy.

No, she simply…seems to have formed an opinion of me after…

Perhaps she's read news reports? Or...

"Something wrong?" Acxa is as sharp as ever.

I know nothing is showing on my face, but she can somehow always tell.

"She asked me to fulfill a condition, and then asked…for things I would have already given her. The freedom to ask questions, basic respect…why did she think I wouldn't?" I scoff, "at first I thought she didn't like me based on prejudice. I am beginning to think she has gained some faulty idea of me from the media or something similar. She is fine with you, with Ezor…even with Zethrid and Narti. And it usually takes  _time_ for new people to warm up to  _those_  two."

Narti is a sweet thing, but silent. She tends to unnerve those who don't yet understand her.

Zethrid is a bit loud, and can seem overbearing on first glance.

But Lyra took to them almost immediately. In fact, she asked Narti if she could teach her how to speak the galactic standard sign language. We all know it, of course…can't speak to her otherwise.

Zethrid loves to show people videos from the net that showcase explosions and gladiatorial arena fights. Lyra indulges her with more patience than I or Acxa. With excitement, even.

Though she asked not to be shown the fights that include prisoners that were captured…which does narrow down the options Zethrid has, a bit.

Ezor is usually the only one who likes to indulge in that sort of thing with her.

She is open. She is friendly…

Until  _I_  enter the room.

"She isn't that warm towards me either," Acxa informs me. "I think we're just all too different on first glance. You and I are pretty reserved, but the rest are…" she shrugs. "Well, Narti might not be able to speak, but she's pretty open. Ezor is very extroverted and Zethrid hides nothing from no one. You and I are…different."

I was hoping that was not the issue.

"I have no idea how to fix that," I reply. "And that only makes it all more confusing than it was."

She tried to communicate something to me before- held my  _hand_. And yet now I cannot get within two feet of her without her rapidly backpedaling away from me.

If she simply preferred not to touch people, this wouldn't seem odd. But she is constantly-

"Ah," I say aloud and then sigh, leaning back in my seat. "I am a man."

"Oh," Acxa says. "I hadn't considered that. But then what is her problem with  _me_?"

"She doesn't have one. She touched your arm just this morning, passing you in the hallway," I say. "Meanwhile if I accidentally brush against her, as I did while I was unloading her luggage…she jumps a foot in the air and runs away. Perhaps it's inappropriate for her people to get so close to the opposite sex. Odd. Why wouldn't she simply say so?"

We spent an entire afternoon together, she and Acxa discussing what she would need for a journey with us…not knowing when we'd next make port but judging it might be weeks from when we took off…

I paid for her clothing, and any other necessities…plus a few things I saw her eyeing that she never asked for. I don't understand why she wouldn't. It is not as though I am cut off from the family funds. Though I do have a spending limit, it is…incredibly high.

Even after I told her that she should ask for whatever would make her comfortable, she shied away from luxury items and tended to pick brands that were less expensive than others.

Assuming it is simply cultural, that her behavior isn't odd in the least to  _her_ …only clears up _one_ point of confusion.

If I am going to train her and if I wish to refrain from offending her or making her otherwise uncomfortable…I must learn about her home.

But when I ask, she seems almost afraid to tell me. She dodges the question.

It isn't difficult to understand why. The Galra are conquerors. She must be hiding whatever she can of her homeworld in hopes that no one finds it.

So this will be hard, but…perhaps… "Where is she now?" I ask.

Acxa hums, "she was exercising with Ezor and Zethrid, and learning signs from Narti earlier…so they're probably still in the gym."

I get up from the pilot's seat and make my way off of the bridge with Acxa close behind. "I want to speak to her, alone."

"I will occupy the others for a while," she replies.

Acxa. Where would I be without her? My most loyal and most capable. "Thank you."

We enter the elevator and Acxa receives an alert on her communicator. "Oh, it seems they're in the kitchens now…Lyra wanted to bake something."

"Does she know how to use anything in the kitchen?"

As it turns out, the answer is no.

She did make a…valiant…attempt, though.

She sighs at the sight of the ruined food on the counter before her and drops her head. "I followed the recipe card~" she groans in an undertone. "But so many of the terms, I had to look them up and- I think I mixed them up."

Zethrid picks up one of the failed cookies and pops it into her mouth.

Everyone watches her.

She shrugs as she chews, "they're terrible."

And then continues to pick them up and pop them in her mouth. "But they're so soft and fluffy…"

"Guess I whipped them right, at least," Lyra deadpans.

"I can't wait to taste the ones you do right!" Ezor exclaims happily.

Lyra snorts, "thanks."

"You two, have you done your morning checks?" Acxa is not normally strict. But she has days when she loves to torment them both. This will not seem odd to them.

Narti is nowhere to be seen, but that is not out of the ordinary. She prefers to find a quiet corner to meditate after the morning sparring sessions.

"Aw, I wanted cookies…" Ezor grumbles as she and Zethrid leave with Acxa.

Lyra is still inspecting her failed venture, sniffing one of the cookies and making a face. "How did she eat them? They smell terrible and I bet they taste worse."

"Zethrid has experienced starvation before," I reply. "She cares not."

Her expression is shocked, and then settles into sadness. "They've all been through  _something_ , haven't they?"

I shrug, "you will have to ask them. Zethrid doesn't hide things, but I wouldn't reveal what the rest would not want you to know…as of yet."

She smiles at that, "well at least you can keep a secret, I guess. Lots of people have problems with that."

"I suppose," I reply. Carefully. "I would like to…speak frankly with you about something."

"Go ahead," she pauses in her movements to clean up the countertop. Looking much like a spooked animal.

"I understand why you would like to keep your homeworld a secret," I begin, gauging her expression.

It's becoming suspicious. That isn't anything new, really. Happens anytime I speak.

"But I need to know certain things so as to avoid incidents in the future." Leaning on the counter across from her, but a bit to the side so I am not in her face- I look into her eyes. "I don't wish to offend you with a word or gesture that may mean something different to you than to us."

She blinks, "oh, like the…" her entire face begins to turn pink.

I recall she says this is due to emotional stimulus, not any sort of health problem, like many other species.

Quirking an eyebrow, I wonder what it is she's referring to. Because she's said absolutely nothing but 'the' and now she's pink.

"Th-this?" she makes that gesture from before when she was attempting to communicate with me and turns an even darker shade of pink- almost true red. "Narti…told me what that means…"

"What does it mean to you?" I ask.

I'm intrigued to know what significance her own people put on that gesture that our own associate with…well. Blowing a kiss.

"It's supposed to mean 'thank you'," she says.

Humming in thought, I curl my hand around my chin and lean on the counter top. "That sign is completely different for us. You see? We need to communicate on these matters before a misunderstanding should arise."

Her sigh is resigned, "yeah…okay. But if you ask about anything that I think can be used to trace it, I'm not going to answer."

I suppose it is a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to play the prologue of my interactive novel route for Navisdan, go here:
> 
> http://philome.la/UnrealRomances/navisdan-prologue---improved


	10. Chapter 10

"Whoohoo~ this is fun!" Ezor is enjoying swinging a wooden, padded bar at me.

I can't respond because if I lose focus for a single second, I will get the wind knocked out of me and be tossed on my ass.

Zethrid almost clotheslines me. "Heheh, yeah!"

Acxa and Lotor are mostly staying on the sidelines, observing. Dunno where Narti's at.

I'm supposed to be demonstrating what I've learned and my natural talents and…basically I'm 'showin' 'em what I got'.

But what I got ain't much.

"Agh!" I get thrown on my back and curl into a ball, coughing and trying to keep down my lunch.

Ezor hit me right in the stomach. Not hard enough to make me throw up, I guess. Thank the gods.

"She's agile, flexible…not quite as fast as I'd like, but that can be improved," Acxa says. "She is very good at reacting to things she can't see except out of the corner of her eye. But she has blindspots…"

"I can't see behind me," I grunt as I curl tighter. "Go figure."

"Ooh, she's cranky when she's in pain," Ezor says.

"Who isn't?" I groan as I push myself up onto my knees. "Are we still going or do we stop here?"

"Get up and keep going," Lotor says. Quietly, still with his fingers laced and his elbows resting on his knees.

"Alright…" I leap over the first whack coming from Ezor and under the next coming from Zethrid.

They were really coming at me as soon as he said to- almost caught me off guard.

I kind of expected it, though. They're really gleeful about destruction and chaos. It's kind of endearing.

Except now they're  _really_  going at it and I find myself ducking, swerving and rolling in the most ungraceful ways I can imagine and I just can't…keep going like this forever!

Tripping, I try to recover by rolling end up rebounding off of something and getting slapped in the back with the padded stick.

I lie on the floor and groan, "Naaaarrtiiiii."

I couldn't see her as I rolled, but there she is- standing where I just smacked into something so it had to be her.

She signs, 'watch your back.' I can understand the simplest signs, as they're pretty self-explanatory once you've been shown what they mean.

Anything more complicated I need to be talked through at this point, though.

"How am I supposed to watch something that's  _behind_  me," I grouse.

"I believe I have a better idea of our starting point, you can stop now," Lotor stands up and walks over with Acxa. "It seems we'll have to begin with all the basics- your endurance is quite fine for now…but everything else needs work."

Groaning, I push myself up into a sitting position. "I think something's broken."

He chuckles, "if anything were broken, you'd be screaming."

"Huuurrrtttssss," I slowly flop face down on the floor and just lie there. "Ah…that's better."

A laugh goes around the group.

Well…at least they think I'm funny, right?

"Come on, you big baby," Ezor reaches out a hand for me. "We'll get you something to eat and let the boss think."

I let her help me up with a grunt. "Is there anything sweet or fruity?"

"Lots," she grins and puts my hand in the bend of her elbow, leading me away with very purposeful steps. "Zeth! Narti! Come on, we're gonna eat something!"

"Do take care not to break anything," Lotor says in an undertone as we walk away. Like he knows saying it is useless, but he's stubborn enough to do so anyway.

I wonder how many things Zethrid, Narti and Ezor break when they're alone together, how often and why. Is it just an accident or do they do it specifically to annoy their 'boss'?

"No worries, boss," Ezor says with a grin. "We're just gonna show her how to cook with the ingredients we have."

So we leave for the kitchens while Acxa and Lotor stay behind. Apparently to discuss how terrible I am.

Lotor POV

"What do you think, sir?" Acxa is staring after them, while I pace behind her.

"I think she's advancing much more quickly than she should be," I reply. "That spike of quintessence I felt on the surface of the planet when I saved her and the child- that must have been the source of the signal we were picking up. We have been unable to do so since and…she is strange. Unlike any other species we've seen."

"She almost looks-"

I cut her off, "there are key differences that make that impossible."

"Yes sir," she says. "But I was thinking…perhaps she was of mixed blood, like us."

"No…I don't think so," I reply. "She is hiding her home planet from us, for good reason…the only question that arises from that is…how did she get here? Why is she here? Why are her quintessence levels so ridiculously high?"

Questions that will have to be answered  _after_  I've built trust with her, I think.

"And how do we train someone who is advancing so quickly?" I ponder. "Her body is adapting to anything we put her through remarkably fast and…she somehow hasn't noticed that. She seems to think she is incredibly slow, rather…and yet she says on her own planet that people are not like this and all of the healing and adaptations…are new."

"So she's just incredibly unobservant or she's lying," Acxa replies.

And then the sensor built into my ship alerts me that someone is using Quintessence  _on_  my ship-

Just as Ezor calls us over the comm system. "Acxa! Lotor! Help, please- Lyra uh- she cut herself! Like a lot!"

We don't even have to look at each other. Acxa and I both move toward the elevator as I question Ezor. "Is she alright? Are you still in the kitchens?"

"Yes to both, but uh…oh, wow." Ezor's voice cuts out.

Acxa hits the control for the floor where the kitchens reside. "She's already healing, isn't she?" Acxa says.

"I can feel it, yes," I reply. It wasn't clear until I'd begun looking for it, but I can sense it now.

It is…a warm feeling. Like the sun is getting closer and closer…and I felt it the first time we met.

We were so close, and she said my name- and then, there it was. The feeling as if she was being enveloped by pure light…or perhaps pure darkness. It…burns, but it…it has an edge of cold?

I'm not certain how to put it into words. It is either so cold it burns or so intensely hot that it leaves you cold in its wake. It could in fact, be both.

The door opens on the lift and Acxa and I both walk quickly down the hallway to the kitchens and stop in the doorway to see what is going on.

Lyra is holding a towel to her shoulder, "it's okay, it's okay- it doesn't even hurt anymore!"

Which prompts me to move into the room and cross to where she is leaning back against the wall behind her, obviously weakened. "Move the towel, Lyra."

She sighs, but complies. And the wound is almost completely healed.

"See? Totally fine. Whatever that healing thing is, it's still working," she says. "It's unnerving, but convenient."

I stare at the wound as the scabbing is slowly closed over with flesh and until there is no further sign of the injury.

Wondering to myself why her eardrums did not self-repair but everything else does...I look up into her eyes.

She looks very uncomfortable with my proximity, staring off to the side and attempting to ignore my presence.

Nothing new, there.

Completely unchanged, but healed effortlessly and much more quickly than anyone else could have managed.

"I believe we should start with controlling  _that_ ," I finally declare as I straighten to my fullest height. "And the first step would be to teach you to sense it, to begin with."

Lyra nods and shrugs her newly healed shoulder, "I mean…I guess I should learn how not to heal around a knife that would have to be ripped or cut out of me or something…"

"Indeed," is my only response.


	11. Chapter 11

"You don't do well with meditation, then," Lotor observes.

I'm flopped on my back, with tears in my eyes, hands covering my face because I cannot  _do this_.

"I've tried stuff like this in the past to manage my emotions and stuff but it never works. Sitting still and silent just allows everything in that I try to keep out. All the parts that aren't me and don't have any business being there and…" I cut myself off and sigh explosively. "Look, I can't do this. I need something else going on around me. Music or-"

"Well if music will help," he says and suddenly there's a soft melody playing in the background.

I sit up to listen and blink away the tears as the uncomfortableness of silence drifts from my thoughts. It's such a soothing melody. More importantly, it's noise.

He smiles and puts down the gauntlet he'd just picked up.

Oh yeah, he's in…not his armor. He stripped it off as we settled on the mat together and-

I'm not gonna lie, he's half the reason I'm distracted.

It's not like he's got any skin exposed, quite the opposite. But his undersuit hugs his body in a way his armor can't, so it's like…he might as well be half-naked.

His body isn't like what you see in illustrations and fanart- he's not bulky or chiseled, his body is…actually kind of soft looking. Like real men who happen to have a lot of muscle and aren't flexing all the time.

He's going to eventually notice that I'm staring if I keep at it, so I close my eyes and do my best to slip into some kind of dissociated state.

It's difficult without something to focus on besides the music- I can fall into nothingness like  _that_  if I'm allowed to daydream but I have to empty my mind. I hate meditation.

"You still seem to be struggling," he observes a few minutes into my frustrating hundredth attempt. "What is it that is bothering you now?"

"I can't empty my mind, that's not how it works for me. For me an empty mind is nerve-wracking. My mind has to be occupied with something," I say while opening my eyes.

He's a lot…closer than before, sort of peering at me.

I fluster, I can't help it. "What!?"

He jerks back in surprise at my exclamation and- his ears tick back and close to his head a little. It's a very subtle movement, but it's there. "I…your expression was becoming more stressed by the moment, I was attempting to recognize any sign of relaxation." He looks away from me. "Though I suppose I needn't have been so close…your features are…very confusing to me."

"But…" I blink. "We have the same features."

We stare at each other after that, and Lotor seems to be gauging my expression as he asks, "do we?"

"Well I mean…" I flush to the roots of my hair. "I mean not like we look the same! I mean…you and I both have skin that's not covered in fur but also isn't super colorful like Narti or Ezor's- Acxza even has some kind of…growths? Like little horns or something?" I gesture ineffectually to my head. "But you and I have all the same bits. Skin that's all one color, hair, eyes, noses, mouths…" I shrug and stare at my lap. "Your expressions would be…easy for me to figure out…if you didn't keep hiding them."

He's still for so many moments, I have to look up at him.

The look on his face is so odd. I'd say his eyes were yearning and his mouth was tight with something like anxiety or rage but his brows are relaxed. And then his expression goes slack, back to normal. "What would you say that was?"

I blink and then throw the pillow at my side at him, "did you seriously just make a face at me? What are you, twelve!?" I mean, it's the same thing. He was toying with me!

He chuckles after catching the pillow and puts it down next to him. The flash of his fangs is both a little unnerving and-

I have a thing for fangs, let's just leave it at that and not think about why or in what ways. I don't need him analyzing  _that_.

"Focus on something then," he's segueing back into the conversation we were originally having, apparently done with discussing how alike we look- I can't blame him. I am in fact, totally relieved. "Philosophize if you must. Simply…something that will help you to…drift."

"I mean…you could talk to me?" I am determinedly keeping my eyes closed even as my skin heats up. "You have…a very soothing voice."

There's a long pause, but I  _refuse_  to open my eyes.

"Do I?" he asks.

And there's just something off, an edge of…something…

"You already know that," I say while my brows furrow. "Don't be coy for cute points."

He actually… _laughs_ , and it sounds surprised and genuine- but it doesn't last long, cause as soon as it occurs to me to open my eyes and look, he's back to looking impassive with his own eyes closed. "What in the galaxy's name are 'cute points'?"

And then I'm squeezing my eyes shut even harder and pouting while trying not to blush again. "It's when you're trying to be… _beguiling_." I have no idea if I even used that word correctly. "When you want something or you're trying to prod somebody. I told you not to do that, remember?"

He heaves a put-upon sigh. "Well as you seem to be immune regardless, I hardly think-"

A notification bell tone goes off and when I open my eyes, Lotor is slipping that one gauntlet back on his wrist so he can check his messages.

"Something happening?" My throat gets tight every time he gets news from anywhere about anything.

Is this the week Voltron shows up? Maybe the next? Maybe the next?

Haven't been here long…but every moment spent here makes me antsier about their eventual arrival.

"Hm…" his brows furrow. "It would seem the planet, Balmera, is becoming more unstable. There are no plans for evacuation procedures to commence, of course." He sounds so…weary. Sarcastic, but weary. "And no one will be able to begin restoration efforts, either. Not without my father's permission, and he's unlikely to give it."

He just sounds so…dissatisfied…that I have to ask. "Is there anything we  _can_  do?"

The guarded expression on his face when he looks at me is familiar. He uses it all the time when not trying to be faux charming. "Why?"

"You said a planet is becoming unstable," I reply. A little confused. "Why  _shouldn't_  we help? Are there a lot of people living there?"

Something in his eyes disappears before I can analyze it. "We would be committing treason of a sort if we were to do anything."

"Yeah but you're like…black ops, aren't you?" I ask. "Spies and stuff?"

He tilts his head at me. "Spying and infiltration are our specialties, of course."

"So how would anybody know? If you just…" I gesture helplessly. "I mean, you wouldn't even have to go, personally. Hypothetically just Narti and Ezor could slip onto the planet, alert the people on it to the danger and arrange a solution somehow. Or you could just send Acxa in the fully concealing armor of a high enough ranking official to overrule any passive orders and get everyone evacuating in due time."

The way he's watching me, is a little frightening, if I'm being honest.

"What?" I ask.

"Is it your people's way to casually discuss treason like this?" Ah, he's assessing me.

"Ha!" I snort a little and then cough to try and hide the terrible way that sounded. "Uh. Ahem. Yes. We have a constitution on my planet. Freedom of Speech. Freedom of Assembly, too. We can make groups that are dissatisfied with the current political clime and throw our backing behind someone who'll lead more in line with our own ideals. Expressing discontentment on my planet is just…normal."

"It isn't, here," he replies. Almost gently.

"Oh I know that," I flick my wrist. "If I weren't talking to you or Acxa about it, I'd say nothing about it."

His chin rests in his hand as he stares at me and I get that weird feeling in my guts again. He's too intense, but it's not creepy it's just…really a lot like being scanned by a metal detector.

' _What is he finding, what does he see? Are my secrets bared and my vulnerabilities discovered?_ ' The kind of feeling you try to avoid unless necessary.

But I mean, I'm suggesting he and Acxa are rebellious and won't execute me for suggesting Treason, so he's kinda gotta off-set that somehow, I guess.

"I suppose we'd best discuss that with her, then," he says.

And I blink because I have no idea what he's talking about for a moment. "Oh."

A crooked grin spreads across his face and it makes his eyes kinda  _sparkle_. "Yes."


	12. Chapter 12

"So I can't go," I say. Pouting a little.

"No I am afraid not," Lotor says while quirking an eyebrow at me. "Does that bother you?"

"Wouldn't it bother  _you_?" I counter. "What use am I if I never do anything…" I mutter to myself. "Fancy Quintessence healing powers and I'm still useless-"

"Lyra." Lotor reaches out and grasps my shoulder as he speaks. "I did not say you could not come with us to Balmera. Only that you could not come to the surface. We will need someone to watch and wait in the ship while we-"

"I have no idea how to fly the ship, Lotor," I sigh. "If you teach me the autopilot, I'm basically just a dummy in a seat, waiting for a malfunction and a crash."

He tilts his head at me and retracts his hand. Looking all kinds of confused but in a really subtle way. "You would prefer to fight with me?"

"You or Acxa," I shrug. "I've been training to  _fight_ , not to fly. Though I  _would_  like to learn how to do that, sometime."

He actually smiles though it's very faint. "And I will instruct you in due time, I promise. But for now, I suppose if you're certain…Acxa could pilot the ship and I could take you with me."

"All due respect and no offense Lyra, but-" Acxa protests. "She's only been training a short time. And as quick as she is to learn, we haven't taught her anything of subterfuge."

"Oh you don't have to," I reply. "When I was back home, my family…I had to learn to hide myself as much as possible to avoid any attention, let's just leave it at that. I know how to move so as to make as little noise as possible."

"In armor?" she asks.

"I think that's kind of a moot point, as I don't have any." What I'm wearing now is basically just workout clothes and I wear them all the time. It's a not-quite skintight jumpsuit and it's REALLY comfy.

They both kinda stare at me.

"What? I don't know where you get your armor," I say defensively.

"No, no, it's…you have armor," Lotor informs me. "Did…did you not find it in your room?"

"Is it behind the wall that has a control pad next to it that I can't operate because I don't know how to use Galran computers?" I deadpan.

Acxa actually seems to be dying from embarrassment, though I don't know if it's  _her_  feeling embarrassed or her feeling embarrassed  _for me_. Her expression just screams discomfort and chagrin, though.

"You cannot-" Lotor starts and then stops. "I see. I will show you how to operate your armor closet, then."

"Once I get used to wearing it, I should be fine for stealth," I say. "It's not like it clanks a whole lot, is it?"

"It can, if your footsteps are heavy." Lotor says. "Come, we'll get you fitted into it and see how you fare before we make any decisions. I wondered why you never wore it, but I thought perhaps you simply preferred your jumpsuit."

"I do like my jumpsuits," I reply. "They're very comfortable."

He walks with me all the way back to my room, Acxa quiet on the whole way, but Lotor trying to make some kind of small talk to fill the silence most of the way. Which is strange, cause if I thought anyone would be comfortable with long silences, it'd have to be Lotor.

Walking into my room and pausing, Lotor turns to look over his shoulder at me. "Did you not find anything to your liking at the shops we visited for decoration, or are you simply…" He struggles for a word, probably something Alien, or some reference I wouldn't get. "Do you simply prefer a more pristine living space?"

"I…don't really know the decoration rules," I say slowly. "What am I allowed to do?"

They both seem confused again and Acxa is the one who takes initiative this time. After coughing and clearing her throat, she asks, "why would there be rules…about decoration in your own personal quarters?"

"Because it's…his ship?" I say uncertainly while tilting my head toward Lotor. "He owns the ship, right? Or his father does, or whatever? And he's…my commander." I gesture without any idea how to even explain any further.

Acxa nods. "Well. Yes. But-" she looks at Lotor helplessly with her lips parted like she's trying to say something but has no idea what she  _should_  say.

"My squad is different from the regular military, I should have informed you of that." Lotor looks really uncomfortable and off-balance. "You may decorate your living space however you like."

"Uh…" God this is making me anxious. "Painting the walls, screwing things to them, that kind of thing? It's not usually allowed where I'm from if you don't own a place."

His ears flick but he's regained his usual air of nonchalance and seems to be clinging to it really hard. "Ah, well, consider this place to be your demesne. Or consider yourself to own it. I'm not sure how to give you the proper permission you are looking for. But rest assured you will not be disciplined for decorating in a way I find distasteful."

Well that's…a huge relief.

He tilts his head and his eyes flick over to Acxa. "I believe I can handle this from here, you can finish seeing to our final preparations."

She salutes and leaves so fast that I realize she was waiting to be dismissed that entire time and really REALLY wanted to get away…and that makes me feel kind of awful.

"Lyra?" Lotor is watching me with some kind of intense focus and that's just- great. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't mean…" I falter and glance at the doorway. "I just…don't know anything," I say. And I say it really softly because I always talk like that right before I burst into tears- but I'm not gonna do that. That will just make everyone think I'm unstable. "I didn't mean to make her uncomfortable."

"You did nothing wrong," he says. "Acxa is…very responsible."

I blink blankly at him.

He clears his throat and tries again. "She was put in charge of integrating you into the squad where I can't, and she considers it her own personal failure that she did not foresee…much of the problems you are having."

"It's not her fault I don't know anything," I mumble and rub my right arm with my left hand. Trying to push back the wave of desolation that wants to overtake me.

"It isn't your fault, either," he says. And his hand is on my shoulder and he's stepped closer to me.

I freeze, like a deer in headlights, not looking up and not moving. "I don't…I don't know what I should even be looking for and I don't think I can read your language so books aren't…gonna be helpful."

Which makes me remember a question I'd forgotten to ask.

"Lotor?"

"What is it?" he still hasn't moved and his hand is still on my shoulder.

"How do I understand you?" I ask and finally lift my head. "I am pretty damn sure you're not speaking the language I speak."

He blinks his widened eyes at me. "Lyra…you…were outfitted with a translator not long after you were put in the hospital. It's in your ear implants."

I sigh shakily and reach up to touch the mostly pristine curve of my ear. "Right. Should've figured that."

Everything is so strange and I'm so new to all of it.

Lotor steps back, releasing me and clearing his throat again. "I'll…show you how to operate your armor closet now, shall I?"


	13. Chapter 13

"According to these readings, we'll have a few months before the Balmera dies," Lotor says.

It's hard to tell his expressions behind a helmet but I can hear the sorrow in his voice. Even if it's  _really_  subtle. I don't know how to describe it other than saying…I can  _taste_  it in the air. And I know that's weird. But it's…

Also totally normal for me.

Back home on Earth, in my universe- I was always able to 'taste' people's feelings. Not like an actual flavor. More like something in me could just flick out its tongue and scent the air like a snake. Which is weird, but has been the norm for me since I was in like, elementary school.

I had lots of strange little 'abilities' that were never really explained by anything and they didn't just 'start'. They just…always existed inside me.

"Which means there's plenty of time to do  _something_ ," I say. "Since we've been here, I've been using the sensor things you taught me how to use and they're mapping out the tunnels using the mainframe here."

His helmet turns and I can see his eyes staring at me through the visor. He looks, unsettled. "Lyra…I taught you how to use those six  _hours_  ago."

"It's just pushing some buttons and letting a machine do its job for the most part," I reply. "We had technology where I'm from, it just has a different kind of…interface, with a different language. But sometimes we used little symbols to indicate what a certain button's function was. Once I started thinking of the letters on my interface as little symbols and I remembered what you said they represented, it was easy to navigate."

His head tilts and he smiles uncertainly. "Ah?"

"Oh wait," I say after the little thing on my wrist bleeps. "I think someone found one of the sensor things."

"One moment," he says, stepping close. And it's all I can do not to jump out of my skin as he takes my arm in hand and types something in on the gauntlet-computer-thing. Something makes a fizzling noise and one of my feeds with the sensor that was detected is…gone.

"You didn't blow it up, did you?" I ask.

"Oh no. That's not only suspicious, but it doesn't get rid of all the evidence. Overloading the circuits with electricity and frying everything simply makes it seem like a malfunction and furthermore, fried data cannot be recovered so easily as something that's simply been broken into pieces with the force of an explosion."

"Oh…alright then," I reply. Trying to keep my brain from malfunctioning, remembering the way he just touched my wrist, so gently.

' _Breathe. Keep it together._ '

He sighs and crosses his arms, looking up at the top of the narrow cavern we're currently hiding out in. "It doesn't seem there's much I can really do here."

"Evacuations won't work?" I ask nervously.

"Being separated from the Balmera will be…" he makes a hand gesture. "They may refuse to go."

"Oh." I wilt a little. "Wait." I perk up when I remember what Allura did with the Balmera. "Couldn't we just…give it some quintessence?"

"The amount required-" he cuts off as if having a realization and he's staring at me with his mouth hanging open. "Lyra, that could kill you."

"Not necessarily," I defend.

I wasn't thinking that  _I_  could do it- I was thinking about finding Allura or getting Lotor to tell me something about Altean Alchemy we could use or  _something_. But…if I  _could_  do it…

"I mean…we could come back multiple times, drain as much as I can-" I reach out to touch the wall next to me. "I'd hate for all these people to die. And this creature…it's downright  _magical_. I don't want it to be destroyed."

A hand covers mine on the wall and I nearly jump out of my skin, but I manage to keep still through a  _supreme_  force of will. And when I glance over, he's staring at me through the visor in his helmet. "Lyra…you don't even yet know how to regulate your Quintessence healing powers. You might not be able to turn it off…or even be able to project it outwards."

"Way I see it, we have a few months to figure out how to teach me to do  _both_  those things," I reply. Trying to keep my cool.

Why is he so touchy!?

Something is happening in his expression but I can't describe it. Something around his eyes changes and his lips twitch like he was going to say something or smile- but he's interrupted.

A Balmeran walks out of a nearby passage and stops right next to us, staring with wide eyes.

I can feel Lotor's hand close over mine tightly and I know he's about to do something.

So I do something instead. This one Balmeran shouldn't get beat up or…killed…because we were sloppy.

Turning to press my back against Lotor's chest so he's hindered, I pull up one hand and put a finger over where my mouth is in my helmet, and smile. Then point with that finger at our joined hands on the wall of the Balmera.

The Balmeran's eyes shift, as if looking and then shift back to me. They dip their head and back slowly out of the corridor- and then Lotor's released my hand to grab my opposite arm and hauled me after him as we pelt down tunnel after tunnel- finally arriving back at our shuttle.

He leaps inside and starts up the engine, but I walk in behind him and grasp his upper arm. "We're not supposed to leave until-"

Snapping around, he snatches up my hand and stares so intensely into my eyes I can  _taste_  the fear coming off him in waves…but I can't see it.

"That Balmeran  _saw_  us, we need to leave before an alarm goes up." He says. Releasing my hand.

Before he can turn away, I grasp his upper arm to keep him turned toward me. "You think the Balmerans would tattle on somebody for trying to give energy to the Balmera?"

"They don't know that's what we were doing," he says. Brows furrowing. "Don't make me order you to let go."

"They do know, because I told them," I say. "Didn't you see them look at us?"

His eyes search mine. "How exactly did you tell them anything? You said nothing."

And then I remember he was behind me and didn't see my arm move.

"I asked them to be quiet," I say and illustrate by moving my finger up over where my mouth goes. "And then I showed them our hands on the wall," I demonstrate again as I go on. "They weren't afraid after that. The fear was gone as soon as it had appeared. There was respect, relief. Something else. But they didn't-"

I realize I was about to say they didn't 'taste' afraid and that would sound… _weird_.

"They didn't what?" he asks, seeming to slowly relax with every passing second an alarm doesn't go up.

"I…" I pull away and fidget. "You can turn everything on and prepare to go, but trust me, there won't be an alarm."

"No, I don't think there will." He says it slowly. Deliberately. "It hasn't happened yet and it's been at least two minutes since then. We were close enough that alerting a patrol would not have taken this long. The patrol would've relayed the information to command, and they would have put up the alarm. Quickly. Which is why I was in such a hurry. But the longer I wait…" He tilts his head. "The more sure I am that you're right."

Well that's a huge relief.

But then he looks at me. And it's piercing. To my core. To the very center of me. Like he's just reached in and tried to dig something out.

"Why were you so certain?" he asks.

"I…I dunno. People are…easy. To read, I mean. Usually." Most of the time. When they're not Lotor or Acxa. Or even sometimes Ezor and Zethrid… "Normal, non-soldier people."

He stares at me a few moments with a strange look on his face before the reminder chimes on both of our glove-computer things, letting us know we have two more minutes until the shift change when we'll be safe to leave.


End file.
